The Tappan was installed in the brand new home in 1962. What a modern home it was - bright turquoise paint on the upper part of its two stories with a brick facade on the lower part. Inside was shiny asbestos tile in beige and in the kitchen, wallpaper that was coral and turquoise print with cups and saucers, trellis and ivy. The kitchen was very fine and the focal point was the sleek 40" Tappan range. It was state of the art, after all this was to be a model home for the new street and only the best upgrades would do. The Tappan had a butcher block pull-out stove top with four burners, one of which was the "burner with a brain", aka thermostat, so the cook could simmer a large pot of spaghetti sauce or beef stew all afternoon at a set temperature. Above the range top were the two ovens - one for baking and one for broiling. Each had snazzy glass doors rimmed in stainless steel and embellished with horizontal lines and the signature tiny four point stars of '60s decor. You can just see the happy housewife in her shirtwaist dress, apron and high heels happily and proudly cooking a complete dinner for the family - especially the guy who brought home the bacon.
When I met the Tappan it was five years old. It was one of the charms that made me fall in love with the house, along with the brick fireplace, two walk-in closets in the master bedroom, two bathrooms upstairs (although very small by today's standards) and one half-bath downstairs. This home is on a cul-de-sac and has the "largest slice of the pie" backyard at the end of the circle street. Oh yes, there's the huge ancient oak tree in the front yard and the 12 minutes it takes to get to UT, downtown or the mall.
The Tappan spent 47 years here. It just left last month, after its long life of no seriously disabling infirmities (except the expiration of the broiler and the burner with the brain). It finally developed a slow leak of an odor of natural gas which signaled that it was ready to go. It could still provide the heat for the cooking of the necessary meals, although parts were no longer available for its thermostats (hence no more BWAB and a portable oven thermometer for the baking oven). Turkeys were baked the required 3 or 4 hours, Dutch Apple pies were baked for the sake of the son in law whose favorite they are, along with countless birthday cakes for the children growing in the home. The stove top most frequently held the black iron skillet that was as old as the Tappan and contained the sauces, soups, breakfasts, family recipes for German pot roast, chicken and homemade dumplings for the many meals of everyday family living and special occasions.
The Tappan was still here after the children grew up and established their own homes, cooking on their own stoves, none as vintage and special as the Tappan. When they returned for visits the Tappan served to provide vegetarian meals - spinach lasagna, cheese enchiladas and quesadillas, and still that Dutch Apple pie.
Will they miss the Tappan and think about it as an old friend as I do? I think not; I think they will be happy that there is now have a shiny new kitchen range with all ovens and burners in perfect working order, especially since the new one will be there for the making of the food they like, and that's the important thing I suppose. I took a picture of my old friend and write about its place in my life as a tribute to a reliable and unique icon of an era.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Auntie M's Glorious New Life
Auntie M has always been an avid reader. Books are what she had the most of in her last tiny apartment. She loved to read love stories, mysteries, biographies, magazines, and stuff she found on her computer. She kept files of articles, jokes and emails. She loved cookbooks and was a fantastic cook. She loved a good person to person story and could remember many to retell. As she grew older she loved talking about her youth with great detail, composing stories of her own. She was active in her involvement with reading, her computer and talking to friends and family on the phone and in person. She was alone in her apartment but filled her time with reading, socializing and communicating.
About a year ago, at age 86, she began to slow down in her physical abilities - driving, walking, shopping became increasingly difficult. Her doctors could not pinpoint any specific reasons, but she steadily became weaker and weaker. She was frustrated that she couldn't do what she could before. She soon needed someone to help her at home each day, then after a few emergency room visits, it was obvious that she needed more help. From her last hospital stay she moved into a nursing home. She wasn't happy about this at all; for the first few weeks she physically and verbally fought against all attempts by staff to give her care. At last she began to settle in and grudgingly accepted attention from all these new people. When we would visit we listened to her laments about the quality of life she now was experiencing. We began to dread visiting this sad, changed Auntie M. that we couldn't make happier, but we continued to make visits often. Then we began to notice that she began her escape from her predicament by inventing excursions and visits from long dead family members. She would tell us that her mama was there now taking care of her and she felt better about being there. Her mama visited her every day she said and made sure she was well taken care of. She was very certain about this and we didn't dispute her.
When we were about to make another trip to Paris in March to see her, I called her to let her know that we were coming. She said "Be sure to get here before Sunday because I'm going to die that day." We sure will I told her. When we did see her that Sunday (and she was still with us), she said "They've already planned my service for this afternoon and I can't change the plans." "Okey-dokey" we said. Life continued, much to her surprise, and that was the last of the predictions about
the day of dying for her.
The next visit was a combination of Auntie M being here with us and lucid, asking about family, griping about the food, wishing she was back at her apartment, then seamlessly leaving the here and now and very convincingly telling us about moves she had made to several different rooms, meals served at midnight and three pm, and various wild tales about her staff who was taking care of her. We could see that she believed she was telling us the truth. This is what she perceived, no question about it.
We realized that dementia was taking over her imaginative inner life, and it has turned out to not be so bad. The more time that has passed, the better her "life" as she sees it has become. Our visit this weekend was delightful. When we arrived and woke her, she said "Where's Jean? She was right here on my bed with me; she must've fallen on the floor!" We checked and no Jean on the floor. She was so happy to see us and chatted cheerfully with each of us and even gave Brei some Life Advice on college. Then she told us that she could travel and not leave her bed. She goes everywhere, flying and floating in her cozy bed, comfy and content. All the rooms she visits have the picture of her and me on the wall: "we must be very popular!" she says. She told us she visited her old apartment and that it's really cute now; that it's been remodeled and looks very nice. She says she has made lots of friends here where she lives now. She names them for us and says they are in charge of making sure she doesn't lose too much weight. (I hope that part is true). She whispers to John to "count her money" and make sure she doesn't run out. She tells me I look just like my cousin Karen. She knows all of us and is happy we're here with her. We take a photo of her with all of us around her. She tells me to send it here and not to her old apartment so I guess she knows this is her home now. She'll have someone put the picture on the wall next to the other one, and both will be in all the rooms she flies away to visit.
How comforting to us that Auntie M has such a satisfying new life. Maybe she purposely invented it as a defense against her own new reality. Maybe she could invent it because of her imagination, her sharp intelligence, her life long love of reading about and visualizing others' lives. She escaped over and over again through her books, and now she's escaping inside her head with her own tales of adventures. She could have suffered a sad regret for a long time, but not for invincible Auntie M. I hope her travels never end and she has much, much more to tell us.
About a year ago, at age 86, she began to slow down in her physical abilities - driving, walking, shopping became increasingly difficult. Her doctors could not pinpoint any specific reasons, but she steadily became weaker and weaker. She was frustrated that she couldn't do what she could before. She soon needed someone to help her at home each day, then after a few emergency room visits, it was obvious that she needed more help. From her last hospital stay she moved into a nursing home. She wasn't happy about this at all; for the first few weeks she physically and verbally fought against all attempts by staff to give her care. At last she began to settle in and grudgingly accepted attention from all these new people. When we would visit we listened to her laments about the quality of life she now was experiencing. We began to dread visiting this sad, changed Auntie M. that we couldn't make happier, but we continued to make visits often. Then we began to notice that she began her escape from her predicament by inventing excursions and visits from long dead family members. She would tell us that her mama was there now taking care of her and she felt better about being there. Her mama visited her every day she said and made sure she was well taken care of. She was very certain about this and we didn't dispute her.
When we were about to make another trip to Paris in March to see her, I called her to let her know that we were coming. She said "Be sure to get here before Sunday because I'm going to die that day." We sure will I told her. When we did see her that Sunday (and she was still with us), she said "They've already planned my service for this afternoon and I can't change the plans." "Okey-dokey" we said. Life continued, much to her surprise, and that was the last of the predictions about
the day of dying for her.
The next visit was a combination of Auntie M being here with us and lucid, asking about family, griping about the food, wishing she was back at her apartment, then seamlessly leaving the here and now and very convincingly telling us about moves she had made to several different rooms, meals served at midnight and three pm, and various wild tales about her staff who was taking care of her. We could see that she believed she was telling us the truth. This is what she perceived, no question about it.
We realized that dementia was taking over her imaginative inner life, and it has turned out to not be so bad. The more time that has passed, the better her "life" as she sees it has become. Our visit this weekend was delightful. When we arrived and woke her, she said "Where's Jean? She was right here on my bed with me; she must've fallen on the floor!" We checked and no Jean on the floor. She was so happy to see us and chatted cheerfully with each of us and even gave Brei some Life Advice on college. Then she told us that she could travel and not leave her bed. She goes everywhere, flying and floating in her cozy bed, comfy and content. All the rooms she visits have the picture of her and me on the wall: "we must be very popular!" she says. She told us she visited her old apartment and that it's really cute now; that it's been remodeled and looks very nice. She says she has made lots of friends here where she lives now. She names them for us and says they are in charge of making sure she doesn't lose too much weight. (I hope that part is true). She whispers to John to "count her money" and make sure she doesn't run out. She tells me I look just like my cousin Karen. She knows all of us and is happy we're here with her. We take a photo of her with all of us around her. She tells me to send it here and not to her old apartment so I guess she knows this is her home now. She'll have someone put the picture on the wall next to the other one, and both will be in all the rooms she flies away to visit.
How comforting to us that Auntie M has such a satisfying new life. Maybe she purposely invented it as a defense against her own new reality. Maybe she could invent it because of her imagination, her sharp intelligence, her life long love of reading about and visualizing others' lives. She escaped over and over again through her books, and now she's escaping inside her head with her own tales of adventures. She could have suffered a sad regret for a long time, but not for invincible Auntie M. I hope her travels never end and she has much, much more to tell us.
Monday, April 20, 2009
You're Only Young Once
Vince was 66 on Monday April 20, 2009. Just as in Route 66, he just keeps on truckin'. He's planning to get his kicks in Year 66; also in Year 67, 68, etc. He likes to celebrate all month, so every trip to Walmart, HEB, Costco, Academy, Castaways, etc. he says "You pay - that'll be one of my birthday presents." He's very easy to buy for. He's happy with new Hanes or a nice cantelope. I'm happy with this arrangement because then in September I can pull the same scam on him. Haha - free Tide for me.
We did have an official birthday supper at our favorite restaurant The Eastside Cafe. Everything is good there and this evening we chose Caesar Salads with greens straight from the garden out back. Yum! Oh yeah, I paid.
We did have an official birthday supper at our favorite restaurant The Eastside Cafe. Everything is good there and this evening we chose Caesar Salads with greens straight from the garden out back. Yum! Oh yeah, I paid.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Lost in Columbus
We opted to extend our Easter celebration this year by adding a " 'Round the Horn" road trip after the Easter Day Kmiec Family Reunion in Chapell Hill, Texas. We had a great time at the reunion with 160 of the Kmiec clan. As is the custom after the catered barbeque and potluck appetizers/desserts dinner, each family shared the news of their branch - all the changes and goings-on since last year's get together. Because our news was so special, Vince was afraid he'd get all teary-eyed so I was the designated spokesperson for our family. Speaking for the William Gurka part of our group, I told about Elaine's move from Austin to Houston and Valerie's move from Manhattan to Brooklyn - each following Tammy Wynette's admonition to "Stand By Your Man", thus not having to spill the beans about Valerie's boyfriend Fernando or Elaine's impending marriage to Ted. I didn't want any "tsk, tsks" so I opted for a chuckle or two and was warmly rewarded. Next I told about Leslie's December wedding in our home to Kip, and introduced him to the family. He and Leslie had participated in the Reunion Golf Tournament the day before and he not only survived that but showed up to celebrate the dinner and socializing on Sunday so I guess he's planning to stick around for awhile. Leslie's other big news was that she's graduating with her RN degree in May, an accomplishment for which we are all very proud. Last but not least was the news about Sara and Andre's new addition due to make his appearance in October. I say "his" because Andre' has many, many boy cousins and just a couple of girl cousins so what are the chances.
Although my monologue was outstanding it was followed by others also speaking eloquently for their families, telling of new babies, new husbands, wives, girlfriends, graduations, etc., all very interesting and impressive. However, by far the best presentation was given by one of Vince's cousins - Adam, speaking for Aunt Pauline and Uncle Slim's family. He said "I'm here and my brother-in-law's here and my sister's here and we're all okay except I cut my thumb on the table saw (holding up his heavily bandaged thumb for all to see) and oh, yeah, my dog's okay and I got a new mule named Rufus and he's okay too!" Adam received the loudest and longest ovation by far.
After the reunion Vince and I began the second phase of our Texas Road Trip and headed south to Columbus
where we had found a wonderful Bed & Breakfast called The Magnolia Inn. It's a Victorian home built in 1890, beautifully restored and brimming with antiques. When we called to book our room, the owners said they wouldn't be there when we were scheduled to arrive, but the front door would be open and our room key would be on the desk in the living room. It was like walking into our own house after a short trip to HEB. There were cookies and lemonade on the table for us so we had a snack and settled in. Bob the owner soon arrived to make sure we were happy and well established in The Warren Room. We were going out for supper and followed his suggestions to go to Nancy's Steak House as opposed to Nancy's Mexican or Nancy's Seafood Grill. Yes, the same Nancy owns them all. After a delicious dinner (neither of us eating steak) we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood of our lodging. A couple of blocks east is the town square where we enjoyed reading historical markers on the well-restored, nicely landscaped buildings. We then headed north: I had in my mind an image of a nice neat square-shaped route, keeping Spring Street somewhat in the center so we could get back to the Magnolia Inn within our 30-minutes of walking. Just past Town Square is the railroad track, so we kept our direction, crossed the tracks and walked a few more blocks before turning west - the third side of the box. As we headed west, the neighborhood began to get a tad more colorful: cars in the yard, pit bulls yapping and neighbors gathered in lawn chairs with beer coolers and stereos blasting. It was not yet dark so we were fairly composed but decided that we'd best head back south of the tracks. Columbus is a very ethnically diverse little town as we were more and more convinced.
We reached the tracks on this unexplored street - which by some strange irony named "Back Street" - but couldn't cross the railroad tracks because of the rugged terrain and inaccessibility, so we went west another block finally making our way to the other side. With some relief we were walking with a little brisker pace to reach Spring Street. At each corner we looked for our street - one, two, three blocks and no luck. Sundown was soon to be upon us and even though we felt safer "on the right side of the tracks" we also felt lost! I was thinking: "This is what I get for being so smug about my sense of direction!". We noticed a pickup truck pulling into a driveway ahead and watched as an old couple (older than us) got out, each holding a Whataburger drink cup. The looked safe enough (what could they do - throw ice at us?!) so we approached them and confessed that we were lost and would they please direct us toward Spring Street. "Why sure! It's a couple of blocks thataway! You can't miss it!" Our 30-minute walk turned into a 45-minute walk, plus more experiences than we had expected. We slept very well in our cozy room in The Magnolia Inn. After a wonderful breakfast we continued our trip south to Fulton, but nothing on the Texas Coast could come close to our adventure in Columbus.
Although my monologue was outstanding it was followed by others also speaking eloquently for their families, telling of new babies, new husbands, wives, girlfriends, graduations, etc., all very interesting and impressive. However, by far the best presentation was given by one of Vince's cousins - Adam, speaking for Aunt Pauline and Uncle Slim's family. He said "I'm here and my brother-in-law's here and my sister's here and we're all okay except I cut my thumb on the table saw (holding up his heavily bandaged thumb for all to see) and oh, yeah, my dog's okay and I got a new mule named Rufus and he's okay too!" Adam received the loudest and longest ovation by far.
After the reunion Vince and I began the second phase of our Texas Road Trip and headed south to Columbus
where we had found a wonderful Bed & Breakfast called The Magnolia Inn. It's a Victorian home built in 1890, beautifully restored and brimming with antiques. When we called to book our room, the owners said they wouldn't be there when we were scheduled to arrive, but the front door would be open and our room key would be on the desk in the living room. It was like walking into our own house after a short trip to HEB. There were cookies and lemonade on the table for us so we had a snack and settled in. Bob the owner soon arrived to make sure we were happy and well established in The Warren Room. We were going out for supper and followed his suggestions to go to Nancy's Steak House as opposed to Nancy's Mexican or Nancy's Seafood Grill. Yes, the same Nancy owns them all. After a delicious dinner (neither of us eating steak) we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood of our lodging. A couple of blocks east is the town square where we enjoyed reading historical markers on the well-restored, nicely landscaped buildings. We then headed north: I had in my mind an image of a nice neat square-shaped route, keeping Spring Street somewhat in the center so we could get back to the Magnolia Inn within our 30-minutes of walking. Just past Town Square is the railroad track, so we kept our direction, crossed the tracks and walked a few more blocks before turning west - the third side of the box. As we headed west, the neighborhood began to get a tad more colorful: cars in the yard, pit bulls yapping and neighbors gathered in lawn chairs with beer coolers and stereos blasting. It was not yet dark so we were fairly composed but decided that we'd best head back south of the tracks. Columbus is a very ethnically diverse little town as we were more and more convinced.
We reached the tracks on this unexplored street - which by some strange irony named "Back Street" - but couldn't cross the railroad tracks because of the rugged terrain and inaccessibility, so we went west another block finally making our way to the other side. With some relief we were walking with a little brisker pace to reach Spring Street. At each corner we looked for our street - one, two, three blocks and no luck. Sundown was soon to be upon us and even though we felt safer "on the right side of the tracks" we also felt lost! I was thinking: "This is what I get for being so smug about my sense of direction!". We noticed a pickup truck pulling into a driveway ahead and watched as an old couple (older than us) got out, each holding a Whataburger drink cup. The looked safe enough (what could they do - throw ice at us?!) so we approached them and confessed that we were lost and would they please direct us toward Spring Street. "Why sure! It's a couple of blocks thataway! You can't miss it!" Our 30-minute walk turned into a 45-minute walk, plus more experiences than we had expected. We slept very well in our cozy room in The Magnolia Inn. After a wonderful breakfast we continued our trip south to Fulton, but nothing on the Texas Coast could come close to our adventure in Columbus.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Hilarity at the Gym
The iPod I received for a Christmas gift has become a favored gym companion. I'm happily walking at a nice mid- pace for a Senior on the treadmill at the gym as long as my 'Tunes are creating new scripts in my head other than the ones that are reeling through my thoughts saying "20 more minutes to go.......I need to pick up the pace........what's that old codger doing over there - is he going to keel over?......"etc. On my iPod there is a variety of songs from The Beatles to YoYoMa to Robert Plant and Allison Krauss to Ben Kweller to somebody singing "Ballin' the Jack" in 1913. This story was inspired by that last song. Now the reason that song is on my iPod should be explained.
A couple of years ago in August the Bell Family had gathered in Paris, Texas for our Annual Bell Cousins' Reunion. It's called that because most of the older generation of parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents have been swept away to the land of Eternal and Everlasting Joy and Happiness. There are a couple of aunties left: Aunt Jean is the one who is conservative, expensively dressed, proper, every hair in place, bridge-playing, Fancy-Assisted-Living resident who goes to lunch and plays games in the dayroom with her friends. Auntie M, on the other hand, is the computer savvy, gourmet cook, artsy-craftsy, baseball loving, Ladies Monthly Joke Club attendee, photo-taking, Family History compiling, once- in- love- with- an- Italian one. She doesn't do much of any of that any more at age 86, but she's been the mover and shaker Auntie for many many years.
Right before this particular Family Reunion Auntie M was still on a roll. She proclaimed that we should have some entertainment this time around and she knew the perfect activity. We girl cousins and their kids and grandkids would perform a little dance to one of her favorite tunes - one she remembered dancing to with the soldiers at Camp Maxey in Paris, Texas during World War II. The song was called "Ballin' the Jack". So Auntie M and I Googled "Ballin' the Jack", found the song and wrote down the lyrics, which are the directions for doing the dance by that name (think Bunny Hop). We then worked out the choreography and the next day presented it to the performers. Right before the reunion was scheduled to begin, we held a couple of "rehearsals" with slight improvement in the performance and some approximation of the "steps" we had worked out. "What the heck if it's not perfect!" we thought; they all love us anyway. Of course the presentation was a huge success, in spite of our lack of professional ability and clumsy footwork. I think they all admired our courage!
Now, two years later and back at the gym. My little iPod is in the "Shuffle" mode so I don't know what song will pop up next and really don't care because I like them all. As I listened - you guessed it - here comes "Ballin' the Jack". It immediately brought a big smile to my face and a bounce in my step when I remembered the fun of the reunion experience, then slowly I began to realize my co-exercisers, totally unaware of the music that was for my ears only - were unknowingly performing the moves to the song! Picture this in your head: these gymnasts at St. David's Hospital Heart Rehab and Fitness Center are all retired, bordering on elderly, tentative in their efforts, shuffling from machine to machine with their program check sheets in their hands, determined to fight the wages of Time with by living by the adage: "You Rest You Rust". (I include myself in this roster, but I am one of the younger ones). Right in front of my treadmill, 85-year-old *Ed was sitting on his machine pushing resistance with his knees just as I heard "First you put your two knees close up tight, then you sway 'em to the left and you sway 'em to the right!" I was astounded and delighted! Then, sweet little *Ms. Emily ambled by: "Step around the floor kinda nice and light", and as she passed by the next machine on which *Good Old George was moving in time and accuracy to "Twist around and twist around all your might". By now I could hardly keep walking and watching, anticipating with absolute disbelief that these fabulous connections in the Universe were occurring - and only I knew it! Then *Mable caught my eye down the row as she stretched, and unknowingly did her part in the production that was solely for my own entertainment: "Stretch your loving' arms straight out into space". This couldn't go on much longer - the song is almost over! "Then you do the Eagle Rock (look it up) with with style and grace". All I had to do was to spot one more exerciser turning to go to the water fountain: "Swing your foot around and bring in on back", and That's What I Call Ballin' the Jack.
Perhaps many of my exercising friends had danced in their youth to the same catchy song and it ingrained itself into their memories, to manifest its influence as they move in this different activity much later in their lives. I just know that I'll never listen to that song the same way again. It will always hold not only one special time of fun and hilarity, but two.
*Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
A couple of years ago in August the Bell Family had gathered in Paris, Texas for our Annual Bell Cousins' Reunion. It's called that because most of the older generation of parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents have been swept away to the land of Eternal and Everlasting Joy and Happiness. There are a couple of aunties left: Aunt Jean is the one who is conservative, expensively dressed, proper, every hair in place, bridge-playing, Fancy-Assisted-Living resident who goes to lunch and plays games in the dayroom with her friends. Auntie M, on the other hand, is the computer savvy, gourmet cook, artsy-craftsy, baseball loving, Ladies Monthly Joke Club attendee, photo-taking, Family History compiling, once- in- love- with- an- Italian one. She doesn't do much of any of that any more at age 86, but she's been the mover and shaker Auntie for many many years.
Right before this particular Family Reunion Auntie M was still on a roll. She proclaimed that we should have some entertainment this time around and she knew the perfect activity. We girl cousins and their kids and grandkids would perform a little dance to one of her favorite tunes - one she remembered dancing to with the soldiers at Camp Maxey in Paris, Texas during World War II. The song was called "Ballin' the Jack". So Auntie M and I Googled "Ballin' the Jack", found the song and wrote down the lyrics, which are the directions for doing the dance by that name (think Bunny Hop). We then worked out the choreography and the next day presented it to the performers. Right before the reunion was scheduled to begin, we held a couple of "rehearsals" with slight improvement in the performance and some approximation of the "steps" we had worked out. "What the heck if it's not perfect!" we thought; they all love us anyway. Of course the presentation was a huge success, in spite of our lack of professional ability and clumsy footwork. I think they all admired our courage!
Now, two years later and back at the gym. My little iPod is in the "Shuffle" mode so I don't know what song will pop up next and really don't care because I like them all. As I listened - you guessed it - here comes "Ballin' the Jack". It immediately brought a big smile to my face and a bounce in my step when I remembered the fun of the reunion experience, then slowly I began to realize my co-exercisers, totally unaware of the music that was for my ears only - were unknowingly performing the moves to the song! Picture this in your head: these gymnasts at St. David's Hospital Heart Rehab and Fitness Center are all retired, bordering on elderly, tentative in their efforts, shuffling from machine to machine with their program check sheets in their hands, determined to fight the wages of Time with by living by the adage: "You Rest You Rust". (I include myself in this roster, but I am one of the younger ones). Right in front of my treadmill, 85-year-old *Ed was sitting on his machine pushing resistance with his knees just as I heard "First you put your two knees close up tight, then you sway 'em to the left and you sway 'em to the right!" I was astounded and delighted! Then, sweet little *Ms. Emily ambled by: "Step around the floor kinda nice and light", and as she passed by the next machine on which *Good Old George was moving in time and accuracy to "Twist around and twist around all your might". By now I could hardly keep walking and watching, anticipating with absolute disbelief that these fabulous connections in the Universe were occurring - and only I knew it! Then *Mable caught my eye down the row as she stretched, and unknowingly did her part in the production that was solely for my own entertainment: "Stretch your loving' arms straight out into space". This couldn't go on much longer - the song is almost over! "Then you do the Eagle Rock (look it up) with with style and grace". All I had to do was to spot one more exerciser turning to go to the water fountain: "Swing your foot around and bring in on back", and That's What I Call Ballin' the Jack.
Perhaps many of my exercising friends had danced in their youth to the same catchy song and it ingrained itself into their memories, to manifest its influence as they move in this different activity much later in their lives. I just know that I'll never listen to that song the same way again. It will always hold not only one special time of fun and hilarity, but two.
*Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Love Story
It was going to be a fancy dinner for Ted's birthday. Elaine would be traveling to Houston for the event, and friends would be joining them at an upscale restaurant where their meal would have many courses, fine wine and romantic atmosphere. All plans were made: they would wear very nice outfits, expect to spend several hours at the restaurant and make Ted's birthday one to remember. All plans unfolded without a glitch, then while the foursome was having coffee and dessert, the waiter brought Ted an envelope, bowing and saying, "Here's a card for you, sir." Ted opened the card while the others watched as he read it carefully then commented, "This is very touching." He looked at the card for a few seconds more then asked Elaine, "Would you like to read it?" "Oh yes!" Elaine replied, thinking someone had sent Ted a very sweet birthday card and wanting to share this special moment with him. Ted handed the card to Elaine and she opened it. What she saw was not a birthday wish for Ted, but a photo of Ted in the very suit he was now wearing and holding a small ring box. The note in the card did not say "Happy Birthday Ted!", but "Elaine will you marry me?!" She looked up in complete surprise to see the real Ted rising from his chair, removing a ring box from his pocket and then down on one knee at her feet. Elaine was wide-eyed and speechless when Ted looked up at her and asked in person the life-changing question: "Elaine, will you marry me?" With tears of joy and laughing and crying at the same time, she said "Yes!" The perfect moment was videoed by the friends, and the card is one Elaine will keep forever.
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